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Authors: Sonia Gensler

The Dark Between (21 page)

BOOK: The Dark Between
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She should resent him much more, considering how he’d yanked her from Martineau’s chair and humiliated her that awful night of the séance. Wakeham was just as guilty as Mr. Thompson for getting her sacked, wasn’t he? Yet she felt no
overwhelming desire to hold him accountable. Billy’s death made her shame seem a small thing.

And if she considered the matter from another angle, Wakeham’s actions had set in motion something quite pleasant—several days of good meals and a comfortable bed, not to mention society with people her age who actually spent time outdoors in daylight.

Kate couldn’t fail to note the way Elsie’s face softened under Wakeham’s gaze, how her cheeks dimpled when she smiled at him. Nor could she ignore the glower Asher directed at the handsome pair as they walked arm in arm—like that of a wolf who had failed to defend his territory.

In her mind, Elsie and Asher would each benefit from a swift kick in the rear. Something that would redirect their minds to the matter at hand, anyhow. They needed—well,
she
needed—to find out who killed Billy before the trail ran cold. She owed that to Billy, and she couldn’t do it without them.

But rather than kicking, she joined them in waving farewell to Mr. Wakeham and Dr. Marshall at the college gate. Once the two gentlemen were out of hearing, she affected a casual tone. “I suggest we meet in the college garden before supper so we can discuss Elsie’s vision in more detail.”

Rather than answer, Elsie gazed dreamily into the distance, which only made Asher frown. Keeping a tight rein on her impatience, Kate stood still and waited. The seconds dragged by, but she refused to break the silence herself.

“Fine,” Asher said at last. “If Miss Atherton feels up to the task.”

Elsie blinked, as if waking out of a dream, and turned to him. “Quite up to it, Mr. Beale.”

Kate managed a sober nod and turned away, waiting until
she was a safe distance before she allowed herself to chuckle at their nonsense.

Later that afternoon, refreshed by luncheon and a nap, Kate borrowed an old quilt from Mrs. Thompson and, with Elsie’s help, spread it upon an open patch of grass in the garden. Before long Asher joined them, settling on the grass a few feet away. He pulled a pencil and a battered notebook from his pocket.

“I think it’s best to record all the details Elsie can remember.”

Kate nodded, strangely cheered by this gesture. For the moment Asher seemed to be taking the spirit encounter seriously. “Elsie, why don’t you tell us everything you recall? Don’t worry about getting it in order—we can work that out when Asher’s written it all down.”

Elsie stared into the distance, her brow furrowed. “Billy said he’d been caught pilfering letters from a gentleman’s study.”

“Good,” said Kate, glancing over to see Asher dutifully scratching in his notebook. “Did he say what sort of letters?”

“They were from someone named Stanton.”

Kate turned to stare at Elsie. “What?”

“My goodness,” Elsie gasped. “It didn’t occur to me then, but Stanton was your father, wasn’t he?”

“He was.” Kate thought for a moment. “Billy was searching out clues for the séance. Martineau was pretending to contact my father, so the man who hurt Billy may also have known him. What else did Billy say?”

“The man told Billy he must provide him with information, or else he’d turn him in to the police. Like I told you before, Billy had to give him the name of a tramp—someone drunk
and useless. The man wanted to use this person for an experiment that would improve him.”

“What could that possibly mean?” Kate asked. “How do you improve an old drunk?”

Asher tapped his pencil against the notebook. “Clean him up, get him proper clothes, and teach him manners, I suppose. Somehow break his addiction to spirits. But why waste your time? And why would such a do-gooder wish to hurt a young boy?” He turned to Elsie. “All right. Then what?”

“He said it gave him an idea for a scheme—that he took some of the man’s papers and hid them. Then he searched him out after the séance.”

“He was trying to
blackmail
this man?” Asher looked up from the notebook. “No wonder he was in danger.”

Kate flinched. It
was
the scheme that did him in—Billy had taken things too far.

“That narrows it down a bit, too,” Asher continued, writing in the notebook again. “This man who hurt Billy knew Stanton
and
was at Saturday’s séance.”

Kate turned to Elsie. “Did Billy say the gentleman attended the séance?”

Elsie frowned. “I’m not certain, but I clearly remember him saying he met the man
after
the séance.”

“Met him where?” Kate asked.

“He didn’t say.” Elsie paused, her eyes dropping to the ground.

“Still, we have a connection to Stanton and a connection to the séance,” Asher said. “I think we should be considering members of the Metaphysical Society. Which Society members were at the séance?”

Kate numbered them on her fingers. “Mr. Thompson, Mr.
Eliot … and Simon Wakeham, of course.” She dared not look at Elsie.

“So it very well could be Simon Wakeham.” Asher’s tone was a little too hopeful, to Kate’s mind.

Elsie stiffened. “Simon Wakeham wouldn’t hurt a child.”

“You’ve only just met him, Elsie,” said Asher. “For all you know he’s the Ripper of Cambridge, preying on tramps and street urchins rather than prostitutes.”

“Oh, Asher!”

“There’s no need to be so provoking,” Kate said quickly. “I for one don’t see how Simon Wakeham could have letters from my father. The man died three years ago. Wakeham would have been a student then, wouldn’t he?”

Asher’s shoulders sank ever so slightly. “Maybe your father was a mentor of some sort. I don’t know.”

“What about Dr. Marshall?” asked Elsie.

Kate shook her head. “I don’t remember him at the séance.”


Mr. Eliot
was there,” said Elsie. “What about him? He was the one you were running away from last night, wasn’t he?”

Kate shuddered. “Yes. He was Martineau’s patron.”

“So you weren’t actually ill,” said Asher. “Has that Eliot fellow threatened you?”

Kate thought of his hands groping her during the spirit performances. Martineau knew there was something beastly about him—she
had to. Perhaps I
will
allow Mr. Eliot to discipline you
, she’d said that night with a knowing gleam in her eye.

Of course, it wasn’t as though Kate had been sitting primly in a chair as he reached for her. She’d been prancing about in her underpinnings, just as Martineau bade her. Her cheeks burned at the thought. A wanton little spirit was asking to be groped, wasn’t she?

“Kate?”

She blinked. “I thought if Eliot saw me yesterday evening, he would surely recognize me as the spirit apparition. And yes, he threatened me the night Mr. Thompson and Mr. Wakeham exposed Martineau. Said he’d take me to the police. I feared they might lock me up for defrauding innocent people.”

“Not so innocent,” said Asher. “Foolish is more like it. I can’t imagine any of them stepping forth to press charges. They’d be too ashamed, or at least they ought to be.” He looked down at his notes. “So we know three Society members who were at the séance—Thompson, Eliot, and Wakeham. One might argue Mrs. Martineau’s primary goal was to impress Mr. Eliot and his friends with specific details, and those details could have been obtained from anyone who knew Stanton well. However, it must be someone who lives in Cambridge, correct? Unless Billy traveled outside the city for his sleuthing.”

Kate shook her head. “The little detectives cast a wide net, but I’m certain their targets were all within walking distance. Martineau’s funds
were
limited, after all.” She sighed. “We’ve narrowed the suspects, but we still have no idea why a Society member would hurt Billy. And we still don’t know
how
it happened. What else, Elsie?”

“Let me think.… He said the man treated him kindly. Gave him something to drink. And then Billy felt a pain in his chest, as though he’d been stabbed.”

“There was no stab wound on his body,” said Kate.

“He didn’t say he’d been stabbed. Just that it
felt
as though he’d been.”

“A drink followed by a pain in the chest,” Asher said. “Do you think Billy’s drink could have been poisoned?”

Kate winced. “A poison that makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed?”

“He felt the pain in his
heart
. And then he saw himself.” Elsie frowned in concentration. “Billy saw the man standing over his own body, which was … how did he put it? Shaking and jerking.”

“The Spiritualists are always going on about ‘out-of-body’ experiences,” Asher said. “They seem fascinated by the idea of one seeing his or her own death.”

“I’m just telling you what he told me,” Elsie said flatly.

An uncomfortable pause followed. When Kate turned to glare at Asher, he surprised her by nodding thoughtfully.

“It
is
interesting to contemplate,” he said. “A poison that stops the heart and makes one convulse. Perhaps I should spend some time in the library tomorrow identifying such a poison?”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t see how it would help us find his killer.”

“And I don’t see how it could hurt. Anything else, Elsie?” Asher looked over his notes. “Something you couldn’t remember before?”

“I’ve told you everything.” Elsie frowned. “But I keep thinking of the old lab. This experiment Billy mentioned—what if it involved something more than merely cleaning up an old drunk? I can’t think why a boy would be killed over that. If the experiment was something darker, something dangerous …” She looked away from Asher, staring into the distance. “Might it have taken place in a disused lab hidden among the trees of a small college? I can’t shake this notion that something terrible happened at the old Summerfield laboratory.” She lowered her voice. “And that my uncle might know something about it.”

“But he said he couldn’t find the key,” said Kate.

“Perhaps he
won’t
find the key—not for you, anyway.” Asher scribbled another note on his paper.

Kate studied Elsie. The girl now stared at her hands,
clasping and unclasping them. “Part of me wonders if I should just tell Simon Wakeham what I’ve seen,” Elsie finally said. “This is the very sort of thing he studies—perhaps with his help we could obtain more information?” Her expression brightened.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Asher. “We can’t discount him as a suspect, and therefore it’s too dangerous for you to expose yourself in such a way.”

Elsie sighed. “Really, Asher, I think you’re exaggerating—”

“I just don’t think we should trust Wakeham. Not yet, anyway.” Asher closed his notebook. “I’ve written everything down. The question is what do we do next?”

“Perhaps we should return to Castle End and try once more,” Kate said. “Elsie may get more details from Billy the second time.”

Elsie wrapped her arms around her body. “I don’t know. That place gives me the shivers.”

“I think Elsie needs a day or two to rest. Perhaps we should revisit the matter tomorrow?” Asher stood. “Mrs. Thompson will expect us for dinner soon enough. See you then?”

Kate smiled. “Yes, of course.”

They watched in silence as Asher walked back to the Gatehouse.

“I wish he wasn’t so predisposed against Simon Wakeham,” said Elsie, once he was out of hearing.

Kate glanced sidelong at her. “It’s only natural, Elsie. You must have noticed that he’s a bit keen on you.”

“Asher, or Mr. Wakeham?”

Kate giggled. “Both, I’m sure.”

Elsie lay back on the blanket. “What a muddle. We’re hardly any closer to knowing who killed Billy. I’m sorry, Kate.” She rubbed her eyes. “I
must
try again, but at the moment the notion overwhelms me.”

Kate settled next to her and stared at the cloudy sky. “Mrs. Martineau acted like the spirit world gave her power, but we know she was a fake. What’s it really like, Elsie?”

Elsie was quiet for a moment. “I lose control,” she finally said. “My body is pulled into a sickening, spiraling fall. It terrifies me. Getting sucked into that dark place—not knowing if I’ll be trapped there forever.”

“But if you could control it, think of the fortune you might make,” Kate said gently.

“I don’t
want
to be a medium—you wouldn’t wish such a life for me, would you?”

Kate met her gaze. “It might give you independence.”

“A precarious sort of independence, I think. The last thing I’d want is to perform for crowds.” Elsie looked away. “I just want to better understand it all. Today I learned that, to an outsider, I look to be in a trance. Even if I’m speaking to a spirit in the dark between, you don’t hear it, correct?”

Kate nodded. “Your eyes were open, but otherwise you didn’t move.”

“Well, what if I were in danger? What if a spirit could somehow
harm
me in the dark between? You wouldn’t know. There would be no way for you to rescue me.”

“All the more reason for you to learn how to control the visions. Isn’t that better than taking more and more of the drug to keep them away? That seems far too dangerous.”

BOOK: The Dark Between
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